Secrets of the Heart
by balmorhea
Summary: Sequel to "Against the World," AU. The only aim in Sirius' fragmented life is to gain custody of Harry. As he fights the Ministry and his old friends for his godson, darkness creeps in once more.
1. homecoming

**A/N**: I am not dead. I have also not forsaken this story. I decided to take a break from fanfiction to focus on finishing my degree. Now that it's taken care of, I have returned to this story. I am in the process of re-writing it. Looking back, I didn't like a lot of the elements I had incorporated, and have decided to do a little housekeeping on it. For you old readers, the general plotline remains the same. This will just be the refreshed version of it.

**Disclaimer**: I make obscene amounts of money writing this stuff.

Chapter one:

Remus tapped his foot impatiently as he waited in the over-bright corridor of St. Mungo's. An eight-year-old Harry sat next to him, fidgeting even worse. They both looked up hopefully as Healers passed, expecting that each one was going to deliver them the news they had been waiting impatiently for all day.

"Excuse me, sir," came a voice from Remus' left. He jumped and turned in surprise. "But I'm supposed to be meeting a rather peaky-looking git and my godson. Have you seen them?"

Remus was almost too stunned to speak.

Sirius grinned crookedly at him.

"How did you get out?" Remus asked as Harry leapt from his spot on Remus' other side and lunged at Sirius, armed with a tight hug. "And aren't they supposed to escort you out in a wheelchair?" he added, looking around.

"Hey, Harry!" Sirius greeted, pulling his godson into his lap. "I'm perfectly capable of walking, Remus," he added over Harry's head.

"We were waiting _forever_!" Harry told him, tiny arms still wrapped around Sirius.

"Yeah, me too," Sirius muttered, catching sight of an annoyed-looking Healer approaching the three of them.

"I see you've found your ride," she said, clearly annoyed.

"Yes, and we're ready to go," Sirius said, offering her a polite smile. Remus shook his head.

"Do I need to sign anything?" he asked.

The Healer handed Remus a clipboard, where several lines were highlighted to indicate where a signature was needed. Remus hastily scribbled his name, and turned to Sirius. "Where are your crutches?" he asked, frowning.

Sirius snorted as he moved Harry off his lap so he could stand up.

"You broke your knee and dislocated your hip," Remus pointed out. "A week ago," he added with more conviction.

"And due to spectacular advances in medicine, I can walk," Sirius replied. He caught sight of Remus' face, then gave a small sigh. Sirius picked up a wooden stick that was propped against an empty chair, and twirled it in his fingers. "I have a cane," he offered, shaking it slightly at Remus. His tone was casual, but Remus was sure the Healers had to fight with Sirius about it. "So really, I think we're good to go."

Remus rolled his eyes as he handed Sirius a coat. "Put this on, you git. It's freezing outside."

Sirius did as he was told, and allowed Harry to cling to his free hand.

"Don't forget, Mr. Black—you have physical therapy appointments twice a week. If you don't show, you're going to be on that cane forever," the Healer warned.

"I look forward to it," Sirius said, a hint of impatience to his voice. "Can we go, now?"

She rolled her eyes, but Remus caught the slightest trace of a smile. "Yeah, sure, get out of here," she said.

Sirius looked down at Harry, grinning widely. "I'm free!" he whispered loudly.

"I heard that!" the Healer called over her shoulder as she walked away. "You'd better be here on Tuesday!"

Remus led them outside, where a muggle taxi was waiting.

Sirius looked to Remus suspiciously. "You don't think I can walk to the Underground?"

"Don't argue about it, because you're not going to win," said Remus simply, opening the cab door. "Now get inside."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.

The cab ride to Beazley End in Essex was spent in silence. Harry, who was squashed in the middle of the backseat, was leaning against Sirius, both of them looking out the window. Remus watched as the bustling city of London gradually became wild countryside.

When they finally reached Remus' cottage, about a half mile off the main road, Sirius turned to him quizzically.

"And how much money did you just spend on an hour-and-a-half taxi ride?" he asked, shutting the cab door.

"I didn't," Remus replied, withdrawing his keys from his pocket. "The cab was from Dumbledore. He thought you'd want to avoid the more public modes of transportation."

Harry, who was still clinging to Sirius, spoke up. "We have a present for you."

"Do you?" Sirius asked, glancing down at Harry. "More of Remus' potions?" he inquired, glancing at Remus' retreating figure.

Harry grinned, swinging Sirius' arm around. "We have those, too, but Remus said that we should buy you something nicer so that you would agree to take your potions."

"He did, did he?" Sirius asked airily, looking at Remus, who was unlocking the front door.

Remus hung up the coats on the rack near the front door as Harry practically dragged Sirius inside. "Remus and I are going to make dinner," he announced, leading Sirius to the dining table. "He said I could help if I agreed to _try _the broccoli," he added, making a face.

Sirius sat down at the dining table in one of the mismatched chairs. Harry bounded happily into the kitchen, filling a pot with water from the sink for boiling.

Remus sat a paper bag down on the table, glancing at Sirius. "Now, remember that you've agreed to this," he began, hoping to stem any argument Sirius might present. Remus withdrew three glass bottles, setting them in a row on the table. Using the curved end of his cane, Sirius grabbed one and pulled it towards him to read the label.

"Your Healers have recommended a specific regimen," Remus continued, sitting down opposite Sirius. "And before you argue, let me say that I did drop the hint that you're not keen on this whole thing. They've agreed that two tablespoons of Dreamless Sleep Potion each night would be sufficient, and a Calming Draught on an as-needed basis."

Sirius handed the bottle back to Remus. "What did they originally want to do?" he asked stiffly.

"Oh, a twice-daily regimen of all kinds of things," Remus said, shrugging. "I warned them you would blow yourself up before you did it."

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't complain," Sirius said, glancing darkly at the potions in front of him.

Harry returned to the room, clearly overjoyed at having Sirius back. Sirius smiled at him, his mood visibly affected by Harry's contagious happiness. "Can we give Sirius his present?" he asked Remus earnestly.

"Oh, but I just have," said Remus, pointing to the potions on the table.

"Har, har, Moony," said Sirius.

Harry turned to his godfather. "It's really good. I tried to get Remus to buy me one, but he said I was too young."

"Don't give it away," said Remus. He paused, smiling at the impatient expression on Harry's face. "Oh, fine—go get it. It's in—well, you know where it is," he added, trailing off as Harry ran from the room.

"I managed to get him for the weekend," Remus said, putting the potion bottles back into the bag and moving it aside. "It didn't take much convincing."

"And how is Harry there? With his aunt and uncle, I mean." Sirius' tone was neutral enough, but Remus still caught the concern in his friend's eyes.

Remus hesitated. "Obviously he would prefer to live with you, but that's not possible right now. His aunt and uncle treat him all right. I don't think Harry particularly likes it there, but he's not miserable."

Just then Harry returned to the dining room, clutching something behind his back.

"Guess."

"Oh, that's not fair," said Sirius. He reached out with the tip of his cane towards Harry, as though he planned to catch Harry's clothing and drag him over. "Show me what it is—"

Harry laughed, then relented. "Oh, all right," he said. He set a small, long box down on the table in front of his godfather. Immediately recognizing the obvious packaging, Sirius grinned mischievously at Harry.

"We had it custom-made to match your old wand," explained Remus as Sirius opened the box. "At first Ollivander didn't want to—he doesn't like making two of the same wand, see. But Harry here was rather, er, persuasive."

"I pretended to cry," Harry clarified.

Sirius laughed. "Did you?" he asked Harry, looking over at Remus, who shrugged. Sirius twirled the wand between his fingers.

"Now, don't go overboard now that you have one," warned Remus, standing up. "Harry, come help me with dinner. No, _you _rest," he added, directing the last comment at Sirius, who was about to stand up. "Comb through the _Prophet_ and count how many times your name is mentioned."

"Oh, that sounds like great fun," Sirius replied sarcastically, pulling the newspaper towards him. He glanced once at the cover, and tossed it aside as he fished for the crossword.

Harry was an eager assistant. Remus directed him to cut up and boil vegetables while he worked on the chicken. By the time it was all done, darkness had already fallen and Remus had to turn on all the lights.

Harry insisted on serving Sirius, refusing to let him stand up and instead fetching the silverware and pumpkin juice himself. Sirius, it seemed, was content to let Harry do so, watching the boy with a sort of bemused expression.

Dinner passed with relative ease. Harry was ecstatic just to be around Sirius again, and Sirius spent most of the meal childishly entertaining the boy. Remus watched on in amusement, occasionally joining in. Harry's laughter was infectious. As soon as Remus caught sight of Harry yawning, however, he decided it was late enough. "Harry, go wash up and get to bed. You've had a long day."

"But I'm not tired!" Harry protested, clearly annoyed that he had given himself away so easily.

"Come on," said Sirius, nudging Harry's legs with his cane. "Listen to your uncle Moony. I'll still be here in the morning."

Harry grudgingly stood up, letting his chair scrape against the floor.

"Don't forget your plate," Sirius added, finishing off the last of his pumpkin juice.

Harry stuck his tongue out at Sirius, who returned the favor. Usually Remus would reprimand Sirius for going along with Harry's childish antics, but let it go. It had been so long since Harry and Sirius had seen each other.

When Harry had retired upstairs, Remus threw on a pot of tea while the dishes soaked in the sink.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need," Remus said, returning to his seat at the dining table. "Don't feel like you need to find your own place immediately."

"I don't want to intrude on your hospitality, Moony," said Sirius, shaking his head. "But thanks."

Remus waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. This house is boring with just me. Besides, you've got a lot of affairs to attend to as it is. Feel free to put house-hunting on the bottom of that list."

"And none of this has anything to do with keeping an eye on me? Making sure I eat and sleep properly? Relax, Remus," Sirius added, seeing Remus about to speak. "I've resigned myself to the fact that you're going to mother me incessantly."

"Should I be prepared for your infamous stubbornness?" Remus asked, standing up to take the whistling kettle off the stove.

"Oh, probably," said Sirius, stretching.

Remus poured two mugs of tea, then returned to the table, setting one in front of Sirius.

It was strange to think that just over a month ago Sirius was released from Azkaban, and a week ago he had been cleared of all charges. While a few square meals had certainly helped, Sirius was still much too thin, and the shadows under the man's eyes seemed to have become a permanent feature.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus offered, already knowing the answer.

Sirius gave Remus an annoyed look.

"You have one week," Remus relented. "Then we're going to start talking about this."

"I look forward to it," said Sirius. Remus gave Sirius a tight smile in response to his friend's sarcasm.

"Well," said Remus, recognizing defeat. "You should get to bed, too. Harry's got a long day planned for you tomorrow."


	2. read my mind

A/N: I apologize for...well, a lot of things, really. I haven't felt much drive to work on this story, but meanwhile I'll post what I have. My apologies that this chapter is so short.

Chapter two:

Sirius was not a fan of the potions. Yes, they certainly helped him sleep at night—they kept the nightmares at bay, and calmed his nerves each time he lay down at night. They also, however, made him horribly groggy in the mornings. And because he never dreamt, Sirius felt strange each time he woke up, like he had just blinked and suddenly it was morning.

He didn't fight with Remus about them anymore, because he knew that it would get him nowhere. Sirius knew the potions were necessary, and counted off the days until he could stop taking them.

That first weekend home—the first time he was able to actually call himself a free man in over seven years—was a strange one. With Harry over, Sirius and Remus found themselves busy and distracted. As soon as Harry was required to return to Little Whinging (much to Harry's displeasure), where he would have to go back to school Monday morning, Sirius and Remus were left alone together for the first time since Sirius' hearing.

It wasn't that Sirius avoided Remus—Remus was perfectly cordial and didn't pressure him into talking about anything. It just felt strange around him. Remus was more or less the same he had always been, but Sirius knew that he himself had changed considerably. He was afraid that Remus wouldn't recognize him, and their newfound friendship would likely take a hit. Sirius didn't like to admit how much he relied on Remus, and couldn't imagine how he would function if the man grew tired of him.

The first several days were spent tossing requests for interviews into the fire with each day's post. The wizarding world was suddenly fascinated with Sirius, and it was the last thing Sirius wanted. He had vainly hoped that people would become fickle and forget about him soon enough, but that didn't seem likely. If Sirius threw out five letters one morning, he received ten the next.

As agreed, Sirius returned to St. Mungo's Tuesday morning to have a Healer put him through excruciating pain under the guise of "medicine." His leg was so sore that night that he was confined to the couch with frozen vegetable medley resting on his knee.

Wednesday and Thursday were spent lounging around Remus' house, rotating through an uneventful cycle of reading, napping, and secretly restocking Remus' pantry with food. Remus had blatantly refused to accept any form of payment from Sirius, but Sirius figured Remus couldn't do anything if he already bought all the food.

By the time Friday rolled around, Sirius noticed Remus kept stealing glances at him over breakfast. He returned to St. Mungo's as usual, and waited with a bag of ice on his knee in the lobby afterwards. Remus helped Sirius to his feet, and they disapparated back to Beazley End.

While soup was cooking on the stove, Remus helped Sirius into the black Velcro splint the Healer had provided. Sirius sat on the couch with his leg propped on the coffee table, and Remus gingerly strapped the splint around his knee, setting a frozen bag of peas on top.

"Do you remember what we talked about last week?" Remus asked casually as he worked.

Sirius frowned in thought for a moment. "Er, about your Aunt Opal wanting you to visit for the Easter holidays?"

"No, about you avoiding the elephant in the room," Remus said more seriously this time. He was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, directly across from Sirius.

"How is this fair?" Sirius asked, pointing at his leg. "You wait until I'm too sore to escape to corner me?"

"I'm not cornering you," Remus said, adjusting the frozen peas slightly. "If you won't talk to me, I can't make you. But the only way you will get me to stop pestering you is if you can at least tell me why you won't talk." Remus sighed, folding his hands between his knees like he did back when they were in school and he was nervous. "Is it because you're angry with me? Do you not trust me? You have every right to," he added, seeing Sirius open his mouth to speak. "That's not what I'm getting at—I just wanted to know why."

"Remus, sometimes you can be completely thick," Sirius said firmly. "Of course I trust you. You're the whole reason I'm not in Azkaban right now."

Remus frowned. "Then what is it?"

Sirius gave Remus a small, forced smile, adjusting himself slightly on the couch. He hesitated, then said uncomfortably, "It has nothing to do with you, I promise."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Don't feel like you can't tell me anything," he said, a slight crease between his eyes. Sirius looked away awkwardly. "I know you've been through things other people can only imagine, and I would never, _ever _turn you away because of it. I don't blame you for anything that has happened, and I kick myself every day for ever thinking it was your fault.

"I thought I had lost you for good, and somehow I've been given a second chance. I would be an idiot to throw it away over anything you could possibly say."

Sirius forced another smile. "Well, Moony, don't embarrass me, here," he said in an attempt at casualness.

Remus rolled his eyes. "If I ever hear that you're wallowing in self-hatred because you feel too guilty or ashamed or whatever to talk to me, I will give you a good thrashing."

Sirius gave a small sigh. There was a pause in which Remus was almost sure that Sirius would finally open up and say something.

"You say you'll stick around, no matter what I say," said Sirius, rubbing an eye tiredly. "You know you might have to stick to that conviction with a lot more difficulty than you think, right?"

"What, are you going to tell me that you've—I don't know, killed endangered species for fun, or plotted my own death—?"

"Ha ha, Moony," said Sirius sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He hesitated, then said more seriously, not looking at Remus, "I just don't want you to think differently of me."

"What, like badly?" Remus asked, frowning.

Sirius shrugged, still not looking at him. "For example."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sirius. I told you I was a werewolf. What kind of a friend would I be if I judged you about anything?"

"Right, well," said Sirius, straightening up. "This conversation has been sufficiently awkward enough for today. How about we eat lunch and go back to normal?"

"Your attempts at deflecting are absolutely charming, Padfoot," said Remus, standing up. "Just remember what I said."

"You're a werewolf. Got it."

They ate lunch in mostly silence, combing through separate sections of the newspaper. Occasionally Remus would snigger, and read part of an article aloud that concerned Sirius.

"Could you please stop reading about me?" Sirius asked, his tone half-annoyed, half-amused as he eyed the paper with distaste.

"Listen to this—'_While recently-exonerated Sirius Black's location remains unknown, it is suspected that he is currently hiding out with an old romantic interest, who spoke on condition of anonymity. _

"'_Sirius and I had been living together for quite some time, operating a cauldron-cleaning business in Greece. He wasn't even in England during the time of the Potter's deaths, and is quite happy to be back with me,' she said. 'And the children are happy to have him back, as he was always a father figure to them when my dear Horace left to shack up with his gypsy cousin—'_"

Sirius ripped the paper from Remus' hands, crumpling it into a ball.

"Don't you want to know what your old flame has to say about you?" Remus asked, laughing.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I swear, if you keep reading those ridiculous articles, I'll write to your Aunt Opal and tell her that you're more than happy to cat-sit whenever she goes on holiday."

Remus grimaced. "Fair enough."

"From now on, all the articles about me are officially kindling," Sirius said, tossing the newspaper into the basket that held firewood.

"But what about that Stubby Boardman article we saw yesterday? _Technically _it was about Stubby, since 'Sirius' is clearly an alias—"

"Shut up, Moony."

* * *

Harry was adamant about coming over every weekend. The Dursleys didn't seem to mind, so long as Remus and Sirius were the ones to pick him up in a "normal" way, according to Vernon Dursley. Fridays at school were pure torture, and Harry could barely pay attention knowing that this time tomorrow, he could see his godfather again.

In the beginning, Dudley had taunted Harry, but now he mostly kept his distance when Harry casually let slip that his godfather had just gotten out of prison for murder.

Sirius wrote letters to Harry during the week, which Harry would read at least a dozen times over and kept in an old shoebox under the loose floorboard in his room. They mostly told Harry about his time with Remus, and were filled with reassurances that Sirius was doing everything he could to claim custody of Harry.

The following Friday, Harry was rummagingthrough the supply closet at school, searching for the markers and glitter-glue to decorate his art project. Dudley and his gang had, of course, claimed the best of the supplies and dared anyone else to try and take them.

Returning to his desk, Harry rolled up a sheet of construction paper until it had a diameter of about a fairly small stick. He glued it shut, and began decorating the tube lavishly, with bright blue swirls near one end, and a golden handle at the other. As soon as it was dry, Harry waved it around, muttering the only spell he could remember Sirius using.

"What is that supposed to be?" said Dudley snidely, coming over while his gang guarded the good supplies with their lives in the corner of the classroom.

"It's a magic wand," said Harry conversationally. Then, struck with a sudden idea, he pointed it at Dudley, adding fiercely, "And it works, too."

Dudley's eyes widened. "You're not—not supposed to—"

"At home," Harry corrected. "But they never said anything about school. And if you try to take my pudding at lunch, I'll use it on you."

Dudley seemed absolutely petrified. "I'll tell—"

"You're not supposed to say anything," Harry reminded him. "Your mum doesn't want you talking about magic _ever. _Besides, if you told on me, no one would believe you because they don't believe in magic. So now you have to leave me alone."

Dudley seemed torn with fear and a desire to squash his cousin. He mumbled an incomprehensible threat, then waddled over to his gang, who had been watching from across the classroom.

"Freak-boy's making a _magic wand,_" said Dudley, smirking to cover up his uneasiness. "Can you believe him?"

His gang laughed, but Harry ignored them. He knew Dudley believed Harry's threat wholeheartedly. For a few days, at least, Dudley would leave him alone. But once he found out Harry's paper wand wasn't real, Harry would have to come up with something else to try to keep his cousin in line.

But for now, Harry was going to enjoy himself.

At lunch an hour later, Harry eavesdropped on Dudley's conversation from the table behind him.

"Aren't you going to take his pudding?" Dudley's friend Perkins hissed expectantly. Harry, with his back to them, smiled.

"Mr. Kelman might see."

"So?"

"So, I'm trying to get a Student Manager badge so I can order people around in front of teachers," said Dudley as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "And I can't exactly get one if Kelman sees me."

Harry rolled his eyes as he dipped his spoon in his pudding. He ate it very slowly, enjoying every bite and every glare Dudley sent his way.

When they exited the bus that afternoon, Harry didn't make his usual brisk pace in front of Dudley in order to beat him to Number Four so that Dudley couldn't lock him out of the house. Today he kept his paper wand in his back jeans pocket, in plain sight, so that Dudley would see as they headed home. Sure enough, Dudley didn't invite Perkins to a rousing game of "Punch Harry" as they followed the sidewalk.


End file.
